This Is A Ricktatorship
by dstroyersoffspring
Summary: The beginnings of a short, five part series dubbed, "This Is A Ricktatorship", (AKA, "Rick Is Tired And Just Wants To See Daryl Happy"). Desus is endgame, but the series will feature other ships and characters, mainly Rick and Michonne.
1. Laughter Is The Best Medicine

11/13/17 - 11:27 P.M.

Laughter is the Best Medicine / The Laugh Thing

Daryl Dixon is, subconsciously or not, attracted to Paul Rovia's laughter. Which, in the same thought process, means that Daryl is attracted to Jesus in a way - at least in a certain ex-cop's thought process, that is.

Rick notices it before anyone else does, which doesn't surprise him, really, it doesn't, except that it actually kind of does. It kind of throws him off his game entirely. So much so, that that night when he is slipping in between the sheets with Michonne, the first name to come out of his mouth is Daryl's.

"I think Daryl might have some kinda feelings for Jesus, Michonne. This has been buggin' me all day, listen to this," and with his love's head tucked into his shoulder, her patient fingers trailing patterns across his bare chest, Rick goes on to explain to her his theory that had been cemented in his brain by the events of the day.

"…and I swear, it's like every time the guy laughs, he could be two feet or twenty feet away, Daryl just – he just zones in on it. Like the groundhog coming up because it heard spring arrived. His head just turns 'till he spots him and then, as long as Jesus ain't looking, he just _stares_."

Michonne is quietly laughing at him, pressing kisses to his collarbone and jaw in between her giggles.

"Have you ever considered the possibility that maybe Daryl just thinks that Jesus has a nice laugh?"

Rick rolls his eyes before turning his face to capture the woman's lips with his. "I thought you had a nice laugh, too. Look at us now."

"Stop playing matchmaker in your head and _really_ come to bed."

It happens a few days later. They are all working out in the gardens, and it's not like Rick is just waiting for it or anything, but the very first time he hears that tuneful sound escape from Jesus' lips, he is quick to grasp Michonne's elbow and quietly point out the occurrence to her as it unfolds.

It lasts for a grand total of five seconds, if that. Jesus laughing like he hadn't a care in the world, eyes closed and head tipped back slightly. Daryl, true to Rick's observations, becomes rooted in place, and as Michonne watches in bewilderment, the hunter's eyes soften and his lips twitch into a small smile that is almost hidden behind the hand holding his burning cigarette.

As soon as Jesus stops laughing, it's like a spell has been broken. It takes everything Michonne has to not burst out laughing herself as she witnesses the content expression slide, just as quick and easy as it had come, right off Daryl's face as he returns to whatever task he had on his hands.

"My god, Rick, who would have guessed? I think you might be right." She says it under her breath, swatting him lightly on his stomach with the back of her hand, a wry smile on her face.

"Does this mean I can play matchmaker in real life now?" A teasing laugh accompanies the words, but she still shakes her head at him disapprovingly.

"It _means_ you can and should, as Daryl's friend, show your support in the least unobtrusive way possible. Think about it, has Daryl ever gotten even the least bit involved with anyone in all the time you've known him?"

"No, but –"

"No, no 'but'. It's Daryl's business and even if you just want to help, you can't rush him into something he's not ready for, or that he doesn't actually want. You also have to consider Jesus' feelings in the matter, too."

Michonne is giving him the kind of look that ends all arguments before they even start, and Rick can't help but feel a little bit sheepish with himself. With a sigh, he cups her face in his hands and leans in to kiss her forehead lightly.

"Y'know, I really hate that you're always right about this kinda stuff."

"It's called logic and reasoning, darling. If you tried it, maybe you'd be right about 'this kind of stuff' more often, too."


	2. Lying By Omission

11/14/17 – 10:34 P.M.

Lying by Omission

"_**It **_**means**_** you can and should, as Daryl's friend, show your support in the least unobtrusive way possible. Think about it, has Daryl ever gotten even the least bit involved with anyone in all the time you've known him?"**_

It ends up that the echo of Michonne's words continuously replaying themselves in his head is stronger than the ex-cop's resolve to leave well enough alone. This leads Rick to take Daryl on a scavenging trip, within which he gets the other exactly where he wants him: alone, in a moving car, unable to escape the conversation. Wearing Daryl down enough to get a vague resemblance of an answer out of the man still takes the better part of four hours though. Four hours filled with nothing but subtle reassurances both physical and verbal, some recounting of Rick's own slightly exaggerated past experiences, and finally, a line of questions that are definitely the exact opposite of unobtrusive – he busts those out as a last resort.

He first broaches the topic by making some offhand comment about how many more new faces they have been meeting since all of the communities had begun to communicate and trade. How so many new friendships and relationships were already flowering amongst everyone, ties and bonds forming and bringing people from different places together.

"These days, if you find someone you care for, you hold on to them tight and you don't let go. You meet anybody you wanna hold on to yet, Daryl?" Silence and a mildly questioning glare are the only responses Rick receives for his efforts. So he decides to dive in a little deeper.

"Look, brother. I know it's really none of my business, and I'm not tryin' to offend you or call you something you're not, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong here. But all I'm saying is that if you haven't already noticed, homophobia's kind of a dead concept, along with the rest of 'societal norms and expectations'. It'd be fine if you were, y'know, into other guys."

The mini speech is complete with air quotes and a small, playful grin that Daryl can't quite make heads or tails of. His silence is persistent though, louder than his words could ever be in that moment and he can't hide the blush creeping up his neck. His face is bright red when Rick takes his eyes off the road to study him.

Finally, when it seems as though the hunter is content to stay stuck within his bubble of plausible deniability, the leader decides that he has to mess with him, if only just a tiny bit.

"You ever heard of the term, 'lying by omission'?" And that instantly gets Daryl riled up, just like Rick expects it to.

"Jesus Christ, Rick! It wasn't somethin' I was hiding; I just didn't know how to talk about it, that's all."

And Rick feels like a giddy five year old on his birthday opening presents because _goddamn that is a good one._ Even if it had been forced out of slight irritation, the gem of Daryl's trust that had been imbedded in that statement did not elude him for a single moment. It is the only thing that stops him from saying what every bone in his body is screaming at him to say: _'Speaking of Jesus…'_

The leader knows he can only push his friend so far out of his comfort zone though, and he is toeing the line as is. So instead, he goes for the more tactful reply.

"Thank you for telling me that, Daryl." And Rick is so busy reveling in the near smug gratification of having one of his hunches finally confirmed that he nearly misses the foul mood the hunter sinks into, slumping down lower in the passenger seat. When the leader peeks over again and sees Daryl sullenly staring out the window, the satisfaction he feels gives way to mild apprehension and concern that he's overstepped.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone, you know that, right? Not gonna judge or make fun of you for it either. I just want you to be happy. I want everyone to be happy; you should know that by now." The ex-cop receives a grunt in response to that comment, and it is the last sound that escapes out of Daryl until nearly an hour later.

They are out of the car again, busy rifling through the stock room of a little mom and pop store that is on the tail end of their list of places to hit. And maybe that's what loosens the hunter's tongue – the fresh air and space, the time he's now had to adjust to his own admission, and the task at hand, keeping him busy; whatever it happens to be, Rick is glad for it.

"You never did answer my question earlier, Daryl. You got anyone you're interested in?" For just a moment, the ex–cop thinks that the other is going to continue on with the silent treatment, but he is pleasantly surprised yet again when Daryl, without looking in Rick's direction, shrugs his shoulder and clears his throat to grumble out an answer.

"Guess I kinda do. Doesn't mean I'm in love or that I'mna go after 'em or nothin' though." And Rick can't help himself; the reply is so incredibly vague and Daryl-esque that the laughter escapes from him before he even thinks to contain it. The hunter bristles consequently as he shoves the last few items into his bag, wrenching the zipper shut almost hard enough to pull it off its tracks.

"Thought you said you weren't gonna make fun of this shit." The leader quickly sobers at Daryl's jaded, icy tone and he mentally scrambles, trying to think of something to say that could possibly salvage the moment. He comes up with absolutely nothing at first. Until, in a last ditch effort to stem his own panic and the hurt he could see clouding his friend's eyes, Rick blurts out the first rational thing his mind supplies to him.

"Michonne's laugh, it's – it's one of the things I love most about her. I think it might even be one of the reasons why I fell for her in the first place." He has his hands up in a placating manner as he speaks, natural instinct and police training taking over, and he can see it working as the hurt in the other's expression shifts into guarded curiosity. Truly more apprehensive than curious, but Rick knows to take what he can get in these kinds of situations.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"I'm getting there," the man takes a moment to survey the now nearly barren shelves in front of him one last time, getting his thought process in order as he zips his own bag closed, hoisting it over his shoulder before carrying on.

"Your…let's say, 'person of interest,'–"

"Cut it out with the cop talk man, its lame." Daryl picks his bag and crossbow up and heads for the exit, Rick following right behind him.

"Fine, but that's what I'm trying to say, Daryl. I'm still a cop, I can't just shut that part of my brain off; I notice things, like the way you look at Jesus when the guy laughs, it's–" At Rick's use of their friend's moniker, Daryl stops on a dime, whirling around to face the other man who stops speaking as soon as he sees the hunter's bright red face.

"Who the hell said anything about Paul?!"

And that is all the leader needs to hear. A knowing grin slowly spreads across his face and he reaches out to clap Daryl on the shoulder as he passes him, continuing towards the car.

"_Paul_…" he mutters quietly to himself, then, louder, "you really are your own worst enemy sometimes, you know that, Daryl?" Rick's tone is light and teasing, but the entire exchange still leaves the other fuming in an angry, anxious state once more. It takes the car ride dwindling down to the last four or five miles back home for Daryl to accept that no matter what he were to say, the hole he has dug for himself couldn't possibly get any deeper. So he takes a deep breath and tries to let it go the best he can; tries to find an upside to the whole situation he's gotten himself in.

"Hey, Rick." The ex–cop hums in response, glancing over at his friend briefly before refocusing on the road. The hunter is quiet for so long before he speaks up again that Rick almost thinks the man changed his mind about whatever it was he was going to say.

"You think that's somethin' that could happen? Me and Jesus?" He tacks the last bit on after a moment, hesitating over the nickname, and Rick spends a few seconds marveling at the memory of how smoothly the man's real name had rolled off Daryl's tongue not even two hours before.

"The way I see it, the only thing stopping it from happening right now is you. I mean, he probably thinks you're, well, straight – hell, I'm pretty sure _everyone_ thinks you're straight – so he's probably never going to make the first move even if he is interested, just out of respect. I think you need to have a talk with him." The words are accompanied by a light swat to Daryl's knee, and Rick doesn't miss the quiet mumble of, "thanks, man," that is aimed his way.

"Anytime, brother, anytime."


	3. Game Set and Match

11/28/18 – 8:55 P.M.

Game Set and Match

_**Three days after Rick and Daryl's conversation at the Mom & Pop store:**_

_"Rick, hey, can I talk to you about something really fast?" Paul's words and sudden approach are accompanied with a small, halfhearted wave and an expression that is torn between determination and uncharacteristic uncertainty. Rick doesn't hesitate to discard the partially disassembled handgun he had been cleaning on the table in front of him, giving the other his full attention._

_ "Sure, Jesus, I always got time for you. What's going on?" The leader gestures toward the empty seat across from him which the scout promptly takes, hands reaching out across the table in order to pick up the task Rick had dropped upon his arrival. _

"_May I?" The ex–cop is quick to nod his consent; he recognizes the behavior for what it is, a distraction tactic, and immediately begins sliding the rest of the pieces over to Jesus without a word. He understands all too well that sometimes, the mind works better when the hands are busy. He is patient in waiting for the other to speak up again._

"_I have a bit of a…sensitive dilemma. I tried asking Maggie and Carol about it but they didn't know, and you are the only other person that I thought might. You're also the only other person I trust and feel comfortable with asking, so I'm hoping you'll be able to clear some things up for me."_

"_I can certainly try my best. What's this 'sensitive dilemma' of yours?"_

"_It's Daryl." The reply is instantaneous, shooting out in a burst of frustration that simmers down almost as swiftly as it boils up._

"_You're right, he is a dilemma; I don't know if sensitive is the right word though."Rick barely manages to get the quip out without laughing; he can't suppress the grin spreading across his face though and the reaction only serves to confuse his company, so he quickly corrects himself: _

"_I'm sorry, I'm not makin' fun of nothing, I swear. Is this because Daryl finally talked to you? How did that go?"_

"_No, he hasn't exactly – uh, did he say something to you? About me?"_

"_I don't know…maybe you should just ask your original questions, and I'll decide how much is safe to spill. He did say he was going to talk to you though, I'll give you that one."_

_ "At this point, I'll take what I can get."_

When Paul finds Daryl, the man is in the middle of fixing one of the many vehicles that's found its post-apocalyptic home inside of Alexandria. It is a silver pickup truck, and with Daryl laying nearly hidden underneath the machine, Jesus almost walks right past him. The scout stands in place for a second staring at the hunter's boots; it is the only part of him that's visible until the man begins to shimmy out from underneath the truck.

When their eyes meet, it is a fleeting moment that leaves butterflies in Jesus' stomach and derails his train of thought. The man looks irritated about something and Paul has every intention of chickening out, of apologizing for loitering in the hunter's workspace, of going on his merry way. Before he can fully commit to aborting the mission though, Daryl is on his feet and roping him in with that rough and tumble growl of his.

"There somethin' you need, or did you just come for a show?" And Paul can almost consider that question borderline flirtatious, except that he knows Daryl better than that, and he knows better himself; the hunter doesn't flirt with anyone, ever. He is so lost in his own mental ramblings that he doesn't answer the other man's question, but the silence doesn't last for very long.

"Well, if you got time to watch, you got time to help. Get in and pump the breaks when I say so." His tone leaves no room to argue, so Jesus follows the instructions without a word, trying to get his jumbled thoughts back in order while playing stop – go with the brake pedal. After a few minutes of repeating the action on Daryl's command, the man calls out to Jesus that it's good, drops the hood back down and walks around to hop into the passenger seat.

"What's goin' on with you today? Ain't like you to not say what you're thinkin'." Never one for pleasantries, Daryl skips right to the point as he wipes his oil and grease stained hands on a rag.

_'Quick like a band – aid, quick like a band – aid, quick like – oh, for fuck's sake.'_

"I talked to Rick earlier today," the declaration hangs heavy in the air between the two men, and before Jesus can say anything else, the hunter is already bristling. He harshly growls out:

"Here we fuckin' go. That asshole promised he'd keep his mouth shut–"

"Daryl, stop," the scout cuts the man off with a raised hand and a pointed look that screams '_that's enough'_. "Rick didn't do anything wrong, I was actually the one who went looking for him. And he didn't tell me anything that I hadn't already figured out on my own, so he really just confirmed a few things for me."

"Yeah? Like what?" The hunter sounds more hesitant than angry now, so Jesus takes that as a good sign as he continues.

"Like that we have more in common than I originally thought, because all is not as it seems with you. You let people make their own assumptions about you because you find it easier to be whatever people need you to be. You are loyal to a fault. You have your own unique way of showing that you care about the people you care about, but you've never been intimate with anyone since Rick's known you; you've never even really shown an inclination towards it. A romantic relationship, that is. You can stop me anytime if you feel I'm wrong, by the way."

Paul's observations are met with stony silence, turning them into a monologue; the scout knows he is in too deep to back out now though, so he switches up his tactics a bit.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're your own worst enemy?" This drags a response out of the other man, but not quite the one he is expecting.

"Rick tell you to say that?" Daryl spits their leader's name out with all the energy of a pissed off rattle snake ready to strike.

"No, why?" The genuine curiosity forces the hunter to pause, debating with himself as his misdirected anger simmers its way back down some.

"Nothin', just - he said the same damn thing."

"Did you ever consider that he might be right?"

Daryl doesn't respond right away, just continues to stare out the window as he twists his old shop rag around in his hands. Jesus leaves him be with his thoughts for a while, trying to get his own straightened out again before attempting to pry any more information out of the man. Much to the scout's surprise though, Daryl breaks the silence before he gets a chance to.

"I think Rick's right about a lot of things; his ass is too smart for his own good."

And before Jesus can convince himself not to, he voices the question that has been burning in his mind since the end of his and Rick's conversation earlier. "Is he right about how you feel about me?"

Silence overcomes the cab once more as the hunter stills at the inquiry. "Thought you said he didn't tell you nothin'."

"I believe I said 'nothing that I hadn't already figured out'. All he told me was that you said you were going to talk to me, and here we are, so…," Jesus drags the 'o' out, waving a hand between them, "talk to me. Was he right?"

"I'm not saying no," Daryl replies after a deep sigh, trying to ignore the anxiety bubbling up inside of him. He drops his rag in his lap, trading the distraction in for a cigarette, propping his door open all the way so that the smoke would travel away from the scout's direction.

"But you're not exactly saying yes, either."

"Because I don't know what to say. This's all new to me, I don't ever do…this." The hunter is clearly uncomfortable, flushed and shifting in the passenger seat as he takes a heavy drag of his cigarette, avoiding the other's gaze as he blows a neat stream of nicotine out the door. Jesus on the other hand is beginning to enjoy himself, trying to internalize his mirth as much as possible for Daryl's sake.

"And what exactly is 'this', if you don't mind me asking?" The younger man is seconds away from breaking out into a mischievous grin, giddy from the other's acknowledgement of their newfound situation. The hunter is having none of it, however.

"Don't play dumb, you know what I mean. Talkin' about feelings, relationships, that ain't me. Never messed with any of that stuff before and I don't think it's a good time for it now, so what's it matter if Rick's right or not?" It's not a dismissal, just an admission and an honest question, both steeping in regret.

"It matters to me, okay? So, assuming that he _is_ right, can we start this conversation over, please? No more bullshit?" A hopeful note is lingering in Jesus' tone, his open expression revealing just how serious this is to him despite his earlier jesting. Daryl is hesitant, wary, but he nods his head anyways, mumbling out a quiet, "alright," around the filter of his smoke.

"If you have feelings for me, you won't hear me complaining; just the opposite in fact. I've always thought you were interesting, attractive – a little too straight for my tastes, but now that I know I'm wrong about that, it opens up the playing field a little, doesn't it?" No longer able to contain it, the scout flashes a smile at the older man, trying not to laugh as Daryl's blush brightens to another impossible shade of red.

Before the hunter can respond at all, Jesus is reaching across the cab towards him to pluck the precariously dangling cigarette out of his mouth in a bold act of thievery. Daryl watches bemusedly as the scout brings it to his own lips, hitting it as he turns and slides out of his seat, not bothering to close the truck door behind himself.

"I guess that means the ball's in your court now, Pookie!" Jesus calls the quip out far too cheerily as he walks away with his stolen goods. And all the sudden, Daryl's no longer concerned about the stupid half a cigarette; he's more focused on Carol's infernal nickname for him coming out of the younger man's mouth, and what exactly that means.

_'Wasn't just Rick that little shit was talking to about me. Guess he wasn't lyin' about being interested,' _the hunter muses as he lights up another cigarette, hopping out himself to finish what he started on the vehicle. And if the reason it takes him longer than it should to fix the damn thing is because he's too preoccupied rehashing their conversation over and over again in his head, well then, nobody has to know that.


End file.
